Pleasure, Withdraw, Death, Repeat

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story I wrote for my creative writing class......the intro was kinda of last minute but everything else is good I guess haha.

Submitted: October 20, 2011

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Submitted: October 20, 2011

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Pleasure, Withdraw, Death, Repeat

A night in a slum in the city I hate going to this place, damn it Cassidy why do you have to live here. Since the elevator is out I have to go four flights of stairs, what a shitty place I've seen whore motels in better shape then this place. I reach 240, her room I can smell a funky ass smell from her room. I bet she is on the shit again, damn it she's so fucking weak I can't believe she hasn't died already. I knock on her door and tell her it's me but no answer. I have to do it again and again until I just pull out the spare key she gave me and I try opening the door. I walk around and tell her I'm here and go into the living room where I lay down and turn on the tv. The smell is so fucking strong in here damn it she must be taking that shit nonstop. I see a open journal and I start to flip through just to piss her off when she comes in.

Oct 21

Talked to Johnny after I paid for what I need, for the thing that makes me numb. He told me that he can’t do this anymore! He said he doesn’t want this life style anymore, and that he has enough money to last him. I tried to persuade him that he doesn’t have enough, that he’s not going to be able to support a family. When he said he didn’t cared that’s when I had to beg, I hated it but I need my heroin. He told me of some other drug dealers nearby but I couldn’t take him up on his offer, I know they wouldn’t give me the generous discount Johnny has given me. And I’m not sleeping with any dirty dealer while being the host of every STD known to man, no I’m to proud to do something that low. I remember how’d Johnny started walking from me, I had to say something, I offered myself to him, again. I hated how he laughed in my face, the dick, the fuckin dick. I don’t know what to do now; I don’t know how I’m going to survive. Best just cross that bridge when I come to it. When I got home I couldn’t wait to open up Johnny’s brown bag, I couldn’t wait to shoot up again. I got into my safe corner next to the bed and wrapped my tourniquet around my left arm then I reached into the bag and pulled out my syringe the thing I paid for packed and ready to go. After tapping my arm to expose the veins and the syringe to get the air bubbles out I drove the needle in. It short prick, just a small amount of pain to feel so good is a small sacrifice. I remember the ecstasy and pleasure rushing back to me as I push the plunger down the liquid goes into my blood stream. I felt the effects immediately, I didn’t even have time to pull the needle back out. It just rested on my forearm as I sat back and enjoyed the ride. My body started to feel numb as my hands began to shake It's been so long since I had this almost two weeks and the sensation of first doing this comes back. I feel myself become warm like, and the sense of being safe is the most exiciting thing out there being touched by grace it's self. I remember the tingly feeling that ran through out my body, running to my fingers and toes back up through my limbs to my spine, then to my face. When it reached my face the process would start over and over again until I passed out. When I woke up I was greeted by the syringe still stuck in my arm, I ripped it out and watched as blood ran from the small hole. I got up from my safe spot and looked at the brown bag that I laid on the bed. I reached inside to find a note attached to a second syringe. The note was from Johnny and the words “thanks for being a loyal customer and for the fun times in college” made me angry and happy at the same time. I remembered what he meant by fun times, and how much I hated him for taking advantage of me for being high. I took the second syringe and began the process all over again.

Oct 22

Got up from my safe spot this morning, passed out again from the heroin, what the hell did he put in it to make it so strong? I was running late for work so I had to rip the syringe from my arm again then find my suit and skirt for work. Made sure that I was wearing my jacket, I don’t need my patients to see my tracks. As I got my clothes on I noticed that they were covered in food stains, I didn’t have time to care. When I got to my office I had a few messages on my answering machine, patients arranging appointments. But one did grab my interest a heroin addict by the name of Carl wants to kick the stuff and needs an appointment, maybe I can find out who his dealers are? As I sit at my desk checking my emails my first appointment of the day comes walking in. Her name is Sara and she has been battling cocaine since she was in her teens, poor excuses of a woman if you ask me, slept with all her dealers to get what she wants. We had a one on one therapy session; a stupid mistake by me, her voice is so annoying. As she droned on I continue scratching at my left arm, she was puzzled had to give her the bug bite excuse again, ha never gets old. When Sara finally finished up her story of daily struggle I got her out of my office and then checked my left arm to see it was covered in blood. Did I really scratch that hard? Maybe that’s why she was looking at me so funny, the bitch probably though she was better then me. I had to go to the break room at least eight times today just to drink some coffee and hopefully get myself under control, didn’t work.

Oct 23-24

Are missing

Oct 25

Had to rip out last two entries because I couldn’t control my hands from shaking, damn what was in that heroin? I’ve been waking up in a cold sweat lately, haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep since the night I shot up. Went to work with a migraine today, to make matters worse I had to deal with a couple of loud crack addicts. I couldn’t have a one on one session so with my stupid idea I thought it would be fun to have a group session and some exercises. Couldn’t participate in any of the activates though, my skin was on fire; I just couldn’t stop scratching. They noticed too, they could probably tell what I was on and how long I’ve been withdrawing from. The damn animals judging me, who the hell do they think they are? I didn’t help them, I won’t help fuckers who judge me, no I have pride. The only thing that got me through today was the appointment I have tomorrow with Carl, the heroin addict. He’ll tell me who his dealers are and where they sell, he will I know he will.

Oct 26

Didn’t sleep last night, arms itch to much, my blood burns I need more, I need so much more. Talked to Carl today, the heroin addict, he’s as bad as me. He was shaking so badly, I would have laughed at him if I wasn’t having the same troubles. Carl wouldn’t tell me where his dealers were, had to sleep with him to get it out of him. The ugly fuck is lucky I need those drugs so damn badly; I have more pride then that. But Carl did promise me one thing after I slept with him; he told me that because I treated him so nicely he’ll put in a good word to the dealer. Sure that was a sacrifice to sleep with Carl but at least now I can get a discount and pay for what I need. After work I looked for the place his dealer was at I found him but Carl didn’t put in that word. The dealer wanted full cash for his drugs, thinking that his shit is gold. If I wanted to have a discount I would have to do the same thing I did for Carl. I have more pride then that, I have more pride then sleeping with a dirty fuck like that dealer.

Oct 27

Had to call Carl over the weekend to bitch him out for what he did to me. He laughed hard, he laughed so damn hard at me. I hate men, I fuckin hate them, but Carl did promise me if I was willing to sleep with him again we would shoot up after words. As bad as an idea that was I went over there and had to find his apartment. Had to past an old lady and a family along my way to his room, they stare as if they know, as if I’m just a freak. I remember how I yelled at them, how they acted like they didn’t know what they did the fuckin liars. I didn’t care I let them have it then found Carl’s room. He answered the door and we went straight to business, I had to do it on his dirty ass bed, while he took me. The sick fuck I was so happy when it was all over and I could shoot up. I put my clothes back on and he handed me a syringe, then I looked for a corner to do it, somewhere safe. After I was finished getting high I left quickly as Carl called out to me to see if I wanted to do it again. I shut the door behind me before he could finish the fuckin ass could rot for I care. I got home feeling much better but my skin still itched, my blood was on fire. I don’t even know how I’m writing this now it hurts so bad, the pain I can’t stop from itching.

Oct 28

I guess you can say I had a moment of clarity because I hate myself more then I have ever had before. I gave everything up for just a high that hasn't made my life better. Everyone hates me even my family and I live in a slum it's so pathetic. God I can't stand it anymore this is going to end the only way I know how. I'm going to take my knife go to the bathroom and just fucking finish myself now no more of this shit.

I drop the journal quickly and then go into the bathtub and see her naked half decaying body lying in a pool of blood with her throat opened so wide her head is hardly staying on it's one of the most disgusting sight I've ever seen. I rush to the toliet and throw up before running out of the apartment and just leaving I just leave her body to decay.


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